Brawl
by mamamu-yan
Summary: Kyoya and Tamaki have a little conflict that results in physical contact. Rated T for language and violence? Slight TamakixKyoya fluff


**alright so this will make absolutely no sense, as it was simply a way for me to vent and kyoya and tamaki were the best outlet. typical topic for them to fight over, very erratic and random and just...cheesy omg don't even bother reading this?**

"You idiotic, vain, egotistical bastard!"

A pot was thrown and shattered in pieces, and his clipboard was snapped in half when it collided with the door frame. A young man was attempting to dodge everything, all the while with tears blurring his vision. "Are you kidding me? I'm the selfish one here?!"

He was cornered into the grand piano and felt the pain of the edges jabbing into his lower back. "Shut the fuck up and listen to me, Suou!"

"Listen...listen to what? What do you have to s-say?" Tamaki choked on his words, especially when his friend's usually passive eyes now angrily glaring daggers in his own violet ones. "That I'm sick, sick and tired of your shit. I'm sick to my stomach. I've been holding this in for too long," Kyoya scowled and shoved Tamaki's shoulders and pushed him over the piano, the blonde man automatically slamming his palms into the keys in order to hold his place while the sudden roar of the piano strings shook the already dilapidated music room. "Strutting around like you're such hot shit, getting everything handed to you without having to lift a finger-already the successor of your father's business...you lazy piece of crap." he practically growled through his teeth, his glasses barely sitting on the bridge of his nose.

He winced in pain when his back was bent in an uncomfortable direction when the piano's edge really dug into his lower back, but he reluctant to be thrown down so easily, and smiled slyly up at his predator. It was rare Tamaki got an adrenaline rise for violence, but only Kyoya would get him riled up. And only him would know how to get Kyoya riled up just as equally.

"Oh, yeah, well," Tamaki smiled out of breath, damp hair sticking to his forehead, "at least...my dad is proud of me."

The impact of being thrown to the floor sent severe pain racking through Tamakai's frail body, but he expected it. "ASSHOLE!"

Tamaki coughed as he stood back up but Kyoya was quick to grab his neck.

"Gah," the blonde gasped, his eyes now wide open. Even in the worst situations-and this was pretty brutal-Tamaki could never be afraid of Kyoya. He was too good for this behavior. Right now, the other man's hand were trembling and clammy. He can't strangle. "Kyoya..."

It wasn't long before Kyoya was able to let go; and refuse to meet eye contact with Tamaki. "You..y-you fucking, I can't-" His grammar was breaking and his composure far from gone. Leaving Tamaki a mess, Kyoya turned on his heels and left for the doors.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The sun was setting, and leaving a lovely, soft glow of yellows and oranges filling the music room, a disaster. There were tea stains on the velvet couches, broken shards of classes in various areas of the room, and the drapes were slightly crumpled. The king of the room never left ever since his quarrel with Kyoya. He remained seated on the undamaged piano seat, slouched over and hurt. His eyes never left one half of the broken clipboard, and sometime within the fight when it got more physical, Kyoya's glasses had fallen off and had a tiny crack in the right lens. Tamaki was considering fixing them, just as a small gesture of kindness, but the front door creaked opened, startling the blonde out of his clam thoughts.

The last person he saw after the fight was the first one he saw after it as well. There stood the raven haired gentleman, tall, lanky, and uncharacteristically awkward. He stood stiff and ashamed unlike his Host Club title as the cool type.

Tamaki scanned his eyes over Kyoya and knew there wasn't going to be any more problems. Kyoya started walking towards Tamaki, only using the blur of the blonde man as a guide, for his vision was impaired without his spectacles. "Tamaki?"

Kyoya needed the use of his hands to find his way over to his friend as he held them outstretched and confused. He squinted his eyes as he took small wary steps in the direction of the light pouring from the window, which Tamaki was in front of. "T-Tamaki-" His voice cracked but was cute short when he felt two hands slide up his face-and then his vision was repaired. Tamaki helped slipped his peer's damaged glasses back on his face, but kept the palms of his hands to cradle Kyoya's pale cheeks. The later was speechless, and his eyes were widen and lips slightly parted in shock. "Tamaki-"

"I'm sorry, Kyoya." Tamaki hummed with a smile; but not before pressing a tender kiss to his best friend's forehead and pulling him in for a tight embrace.

Kyoya felt choked up, but squeezed his eyes shut before he dared to show any more emotion.

"Dumbass," he whispered, hugging Tamaki in return, "...I'm so sorry."


End file.
